


French Twist

by RennieMcTavish



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Fluff, Food Porn, Love, Married Couple, POV First Person, Romance, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RennieMcTavish/pseuds/RennieMcTavish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthday mornings are made for delicious surprises…</p>
            </blockquote>





	French Twist

When I woke, I found an arm draped across my waist and a foot tucked under my leg. We always slept like that, but we clung to each other even more after we’d been apart. 

It had been a month since we’d snuck off to Paris for a weekend during a break in filming. But what mattered was that today marked the tenth birthday we’d spent together: five for each of us. No matter how big the film, no matter how many miles separated us, we hadn’t missed a birthday since we’d gotten married. A phone call or video chat might do, even for our anniversary, but never for a birthday. Every couple had their special traditions, and this one was ours.

I lay there for a moment, enjoying the closeness and thinking about our plans for today. We were going to play at being tourists in our own city. We were both incurable romantics, and I looked forward to holding hands on a stroll through Hyde Park and having a kiss or two at the top of the Eye. We’d follow that with a quick stop at home to change clothes before dinner at our favorite candlelit bistro. Every moment together was a gift in this hectic life we shared, and I was bound and determined to make the most of today, starting with what I had planned for this morning. Breakfast in bed. Which meant that I’d better get into the kitchen.

This meal was going to be pure decadence – we’d walk off the calories later. I’d searched the internet and found an appallingly rich version of French toast involving brioche, heavy cream, and butter, with fabulous toppings: Nutella and whipped cream. It took just a minute to mix up the eggs and set the bread to soak; it took longer to whip the cream by hand instead of with a noisy mixer. My incurably romantic streak came to the fore when I got the tray ready. Cloth napkin, a birthday note (a love letter, really), and five red roses tucked into a little vase. The crystal flutes from our wedding reception sat on the table, waiting to be filled with the champagne I’d hidden in the back of the refrigerator last night.

Not much left to do, I thought as I put the Nutella in the microwave to melt. The butter in the pan looked just right, and I started two pieces of bread. It smelled divine. When both sides of the bread were golden brown, I put it on the plate and contemplated what to do with the toppings. Nutella was a sure thing, so I drizzled some – alright, a lot – over the French toast. A dollop of whipped cream on the side. And then a bit more – this was a birthday breakfast, after all.

And that was when I heard the unmistakable squeak of the third step from the bottom of the staircase. Damn. So much for a birthday surprise.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Making you breakfast.”

“But, Tom! It’s your birthday, not mine!”

Liza’s still-sleepy face and tousled hair made her confused expression even more adorable. “Yes, darling. I know.”

She rolled her eyes and I laughed as I walked to where she stood. “Good morning, my love,” I said. I kissed her and pulled her in for a long hug. I exhaled a contented sigh. “Mmm. Happy birthday to me!”

Liza started giggling. I loved holding her when she laughed. She leaned back and poked my shoulder, grinning. “Happy birthday, you dork. Now explain yourself. Why are you making breakfast for me on your birthday?”

I stroked her hair. “I’m making you breakfast because it’s my birthday, darling. Today is my day to be thankful for what the year’s brought me.” I shook my head. “It’s been absolutely remarkable – the projects, the roles, the fans, the awards. But what I’m trying to get around to saying is that I’m thankful for you. Above everything else, everyone else, I’m thankful for you. I couldn’t do what I do without you.” I kissed her gently and pulled her close. “I love you so much, Liza.”

“I love you, too.”

I held her for a long moment, savoring the feel of her in my arms. She looked up at me, and we kissed again.

“Well, I should finish making breakfast,” I said. “Just give me a minute.”

Liza grabbed the bottle of champagne and the two glasses and started toward the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

“Going back to bed so you can bring me my breakfast.”

“That would be my pleasure,” I said with a grin. I started the butter melting.

“Hey, babe?”

I turned to find Liza standing halfway up the stairs, looking over her shoulder at me. She grinned mischievously. “Make sure you bring the Nutella … and the whipped cream.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I will.” I winked at her and gave her my best naughty grin. She started laughing as she ran up the stairs.

Oh, yes. It was going to be a very happy birthday indeed.


End file.
